Author's Note: Hey all! I wanted to offer a quick apology for that last chapter. It was a disappointment even to me in that it lacked the strength that the other two chapters had. I'm probably going to go back and rewrite it eventually, but I'm going to get this finished out first. I assure you though, that this chapter is much more in keeping with the original tone I set in this tale, and hopefully just as enjoyable. One thing to note though before I continue, is that I changed Drake's request that Gos take a cab to her taking the city bus. It makes more sense (especially with his cheap spending habits) and it's easier to work with for my own purposes. Everything else is still the same. But anyway, on with the show!
Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck, Negaduck, Gosalyn, Megavolt, the Fearsome Five, or any other characters or settings found in the cartoon series "Darkwing Duck". All are used without permission for non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The story line for "To Gain the World" is my own work.
Chapter Four
Negaduck stepped into the dank outbuilding that was his hideout, his hat in his hand and his webbed feet dragging. The setting of the sun had marked the end of his twenty-fourth hour, his twenty-fourth hour of the time given him, and his twenty-fourth hour being awake. Though being awake for days at a time was nothing new to him, being good for that long was, and the continual fights with the temptations that arose was exhausting. He'd had opportunity to steal more than two hundred thousand dollars worth of hi-tech equipment, reduce the capitol building to a pile of rubble, and take over a minor country, on top of the usual kicking cats and shoving old ladies into traffic, and he'd had to walk away from all of it. Not even trying to hide a thermonuclear warhead on his person was as hard as all this. Then there was the continual frustration and anger that kept building up from his newfound limitations (there were only so many gyms that were willing to sell out), and combating that on top of his temptations… Man, if his eternal soul wasn't on the line he'd have blown up the city a long time ago, just to relieve some stress.
At least he'd made some progress though. An anonymous tip to the St. Canard times, a new subscription down by the docks, a visit to the bus station, and an assignment for a sulky Megavolt had laid out most of his dominoes for the next night, though he still wanted to keep an eye on things to make sure all went as planned. He really hated having things happen at the last minute, but unfortunately, the time tables were not in his hands. He should have just barely enough time for everything to get done.
The mallard slumped into an old recliner, gently massaging his forehead. He knew that right now, he should probably be working on racking up the good deeds to help cover over some of his previous transgressions, but the villain knew that in his current state, if he encountered any more stain on his sorely tried nerves, he would do something that would send him right back to Hell. Besides, he had something good in mind that ought to go a long ways in clearing some of his past record, and a few hours wasn't going to hurt anything. He could get to the nice stuff after he had a chance to recover and get some shut-eye.
Decided, the duck kicked further back in the chair, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and drifted off.
It was back…that darkness that exceeded even the blackness in his soul. And there was that fear rising up again in the pit of his stomach, tying his gut up in knots and causing the bile to rise in the back of his throat. He despised this weakness, this utter helplessness, but as a cold wave of a tangible evil washed over him, causing goose bumps to rise under his feathers, his fear grew in strength and that feeling was smothered. It was as if all the horrors of his darkest nightmares were lurking in that blackness, their presence bringing forth all the fears and anxieties he'd long since locked away, and that now refused to stay silent.
But then something materialized out of the darkness that he didn't expect. The shadows seemed to shrink back as it approached him, as did Negaduck's own fears and nightmares, all of them evaporating in the surprise and relief he felt at seeing the figure before him. As much as he sometimes disliked the organization, SHUSH's Director J. Gander Hooter of the Negaverse was an owl after Negaduck's own heart, and was sometimes very useful, often providing him with new weaponry and gadgets to make his work more interesting. The old coot must have something hot out of the labs to give him.
"Lord Negaduck," Hooter greeted, bowing slightly at the waist. "A pleasure to see you again sir."
"Yeah, yeah, whatcha got, J. Gander?" Negaduck asked impatiently. He liked people honoring his position, but not at the cost of his business. He knew he needed what the owl had to give him, and for some reason, he felt that time was pressing.
"Well sir, I'm afraid that this one is going to cost."
Negaduck scowled, but said, "Ok, fine. I'll give you ten thousand."
The owl shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that's not going to be enough."
"A hundred thousand then."
Another shake of the grayed head. "No sir."
"A million?"
The owl shook his head again. "No."
"A hundred million." Though he fought to keep it from his voice, Negaduck could feel a desperation beginning to rise up in him. The clock was ticking, and he urgently needed this thing. But how much was it going to cost him?
"I'm sorry sir, but-"
Negaduck's anxieties reached their threshold. "Look I'll give you St. Canard if you want! Just give it to me!"
The owl sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Lord Negaduck, I'm afraid that not even the entire Negaverse is enough to pay for this."
"Then what?" Negaduck cried, his now frantic desperation evident in his tone. "What can I give you in exchange for it?"
Hooter's gaze was piercing. "That's the question, now isn't it? What could you possibly give that would be enough? But Negaduck, your time is running out."
Negaduck started awake, the desperation still strong and those last words still ringing in his ears. The dream danced vividly in his memory. It had seemed so real, so lifelike, and remained so strongly in his mind. But why? Why was this dream unsettling him so?
Your time is running out. The words had seemed more like a friendly warning then a smug threat. Hooter had appeared, and the darkness had retreated. Why? The mallard felt like he was missing something huge, something that was staring him right in the face, and something that was of vital importance.
A clatter outside the building startled him, making Negaduck jump and yanking him from his thoughts. He sat still for a moment, listening carefully for signs of an intruder, but relaxed slightly as he heard the slight scratching of a stray in the alley. The mallard though was still not at ease. The room was now dark in the absence of the twilight, his equipment and weapons standing as shadows among shadows. The darkness was complete enough that it was uncomfortably reminiscent of his encounter with Death; for a moment, Negaduck even thought he could see those burning crimson eyes.
Negaduck kicked himself. What was he doing? Cowering in the darkness like a scared little girl and pondering some weird dream, the product of an overworked mind? Man, he must be tired! He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself slip that much. Introspection was for philosophers, and cowering for cops and wannabe heroes. Action was for ducks of power.
Feeling his focus slide once more where it ought to be, the mallard rose from the recliner, and flipping on a light, made his way over to a cabinet near his workbench. It was time that he rolled up his sleeves and started working on the more unpleasant side of this deal. Opening the cabinet door, he pulled out a fireproof box, securely sealed with a biometric access and combination lock. He went through the routine of opening the locks, then lifted the lid to uncover a vial and a single slip of paper, carefully protected in a molded foam setting.
He'd spent many nights debating long and hard over the best way to use this serum, and before today, had been thinking he would just hold it for ransom and then destroy it after payment. Now though, it could be the key to getting him out of Hell. Obviously he should do some other things to make sure everything was well covered, but this was going to be the thing that would get him into Heaven's books. The question was, how he was going to deliver it?
He could go the direct approach and just walk in and hand it over, but having an act like this associated with him would completely destroy the reputation he'd worked so hard to build. But there was also the anonymous approach. He'd heard people say that it was more selfless to not take credit for your acts of charity, and while it sounded completely preposterous to Negaduck, if it saved his reputation…
Negaduck shut the case. That's what he would do. He was a professional thief after all, and the security there was so pathetic that he could get in and out of that building blindfolded and handcuffed to an elephant without being detected. Plus, not taking credit would be another point in his favor. The mallard glanced at his watch. 2:46 am. No better time than the present.
Negaduck straightened his hat, and after making sure that he had his usual arsenal on his person (being good didn't mean he couldn't carry around the means to protect himself), scooped up the case and headed out the door. He'd sneak into the hospital, drop the case off, and sneak back out, and no one would ever be the wiser.
"And we hereby honor Negaduck for his loving and charitable donation of this serum, an act done from the goodness of his heart..."
Negaduck fought back a growl, struggling to still the urge to reach for his shotgun and blast the face off the person who would dare associate his name with such words. It had seemed so easy in theory, just drop the solution off at the empty desk with a note and leave. But no, every single employee in the building had to walk into the room and catch him putting it there, and now he was stuck here, listening to some puffed up city official spout off meaningless platitudes and empty praise in some trite attempt to "honor" him. His reputation was sure to be shot to shreds by now with all the things being said.
And on top of that, he was running low on time. It was already 5:55 pm, and while things should just be starting to get into motion, there was only two hours left before his deadline, and he was stuck here instead of keeping an eye on things like he should be. Under normal circumstances, the fat walrus shooting his mouth off at the podium would have been dead before he'd finished the first syllable of the word "loving". But unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances. With a great amount of self-restraint, Negaduck squashed the urge to show the crowd just how "good" his heart was, and turned his mind back to the bloated windbag on the stage.
"…who, though misunderstood by many, sought to prove himself an honorable citizen and scoured the world for this formula, sacrificing his own time, wants and needs to save the unfortunate ones among us who have no other hope…"
Negaduck hid a smirk. Oh yeah, he'd sacrificed his time and wants. He'd taken three hours from his busy life to persuade the sap who created the stuff to tell him where it was, when he'd dearly wanted to be out roasting the feathers off of his nemesis Darkwing. Yes, wonderful, sacrificial him.
"…and prove once and for all that he does, in fact, care for the well-being of humanity!" The crowd erupted into applause, and Negaduck cringed as the walrus waddled over to him, a certificate of appreciation extended in a flabby hand. "We knew you had it in you, Negaduck," the mayor said, handing him the rolled up paper.
"Yeah, thanks," Negaduck grumbled, reluctantly offering the expectant official his hand to shake. To his complete shock and utter horror though, instead of just shaking his hand, the walrus pulled him into gigantic hug, squeezing the mallard hard enough to pull him up off his feet and expel all the air from his lungs. Okay, Negaduck thought darkly, his self-control lapsing in the face of this newest humiliation. That's it!
The mayor was saved from sudden, painful, and debilitating injury to his person though by the timely arrival of St. Canard's costumed clown. "Taking advantage of the masses again, eh Negaduck?" the familiar voice called out from behind him.
Negaduck shook himself free of the walrus's grasp, and turned around to face the accusing glare of his archnemesis, Darkwing Duck. "Ah, there you are," he said, turning a smile on his double. "I was beginning to think that you really do live under a rock."
Darkwing rolled his eyes behind the barrel of his gas gun. "Cut the balloon juice, Negaduck! You're going back to prison!"
"Prison!" the mayor exclaimed, shouldering his way past Negaduck. His unwanted intrusion earned a glare from both mallards, but he continued on, completely oblivious. "This duck just gave the hospital the cure for cancer, and you want to send him to prison?"
"Cure for cancer my eye!" Darkwing shot back. "That stuff's poison! I'd stake my reputation on it!"
"For your information-"the walrus began indignantly, but was interrupted by Negaduck shoving his way back to the front. He could never abide letting someone else fight his fights.
"Well you'd lose your reputation, not that you have much of one to begin with," he said. The villain took a few steps closer to his double, lowering his voice. "So maybe you should focus on spending your time more important things than harassing me." The feeling of trying to make Darkwing squirm came on Negaduck in a strong rush of déjà vu. He viciously shoved aside the feeling and the resulting memories that followed as his double responded.
"And what could be more important than ridding the city of the lowlifes trying to take advantage of it?" Darkwing demanded, his own voice lowering as he closed the remaining distance between them so that they now almost stood beak to beak.
"For example, do you know where your daughter is?" Negaduck asked, his attitude now cool and impeccably collected.
Darkwing's eyes narrowed at the mention of Gosalyn, and Negaduck could sense him searching for some sign that he was bluffing. His face darkened though as, for once, he was able to discern the truth. "What have you done with her?" he asked, his expression hardening and his voice low and dangerous.
"Oh I haven't done anything," Negaduck replied calmly, taking a step back. "Haven't you heard? I've reformed."
"What have you done with her?" the vigilante repeated, grabbing Negaduck up by the lapels of his jacket. The villain was momentarily taken aback by the fierce anger that radiated from his double. It was almost like he was looking at himself in Darkwing's costume, and hearing his own voice coming from Darkwing's mouth. But the surprise quickly melted into satisfaction. So this was going to work after all…
"You never should have allowed her to join you in your little ventures," Negaduck answered, his voice even despite the tightening grip on his jacket. "Sooner or later, she was going to get involved, and make her own enemies."
Darkwing's eyes widened as he realized Negaduck's meaning, the anger being replaced by something much sweeter to Negaduck's tastes: fear. Without another word the mallard released Negaduck and took off through the bewildered crowd, moving much faster than the villain would have given him credit for. Negaduck lost sight of him in the masses of people, but a moment later, the roar of an engine signaled the vigilante's departure.
The mallard chuckled to himself as he stepped down off the stage and began to follow the hero. Everything was going just as planned.